My story / Poem by Lily Swarn

Poem by Lily Swarn
 
 
My story
 
I write about a lump of clay
that pretends to be something more
Loitering in halls of munificence
without a stitch of knowledge
Bumbling and falling clumsily
into pits of depressions and lows
This well crafted body ,
this chiseled to perfection countenance
This gloating pompous tub of lard
that thinks no end of itself
Pretentious stance of brusque attitudes
patronizing loftily
This squeamish terror stricken
wide eyed lost soul
Scoffing at its own limitations
and fist fighting its dejections
Blundering into arenas
never trodden before in tight jeans
That bring the bulges into focus
This holier than thou image
Tightly wrapping the imp beneath
This diva that launched a thousand loves
This heart searching for a lost beloved
Through umpteen life cycles
This thirsty mind parched for spiritual salvation
Wandering in realms of bewildered chanting
The fly away hair never gelled or straightened
Like a Fakir in the Lord’s mansions
A Baul, a Sufi , a mendicant
Traveling in circles of dervishes
It could be my story or yours
You decide my friends
For stories are written in heaven
Only to rot in hell.
 
Copyright Lily Swarn 5.3.2017
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